I've Got You
by medusaoblongata
Summary: 76 breaks into an old OW facility and discovers a stranger! Reaper tries to kill everyone. Smutty smut smut also happens. Later chapters will have some non-con. Hurrah!


The facility was supposed to be abandoned. Years of disuse, the gates chained, the doors locked, all signs pointed to a place that shouldn't have been hosting more than an errant bird nest or two. And yet here he was, the sights of his visor locked onto an uninvited guest. He had been so careful, sliding through air vents and dodging areas that might still be monitored by the old security equipment. He had been -careful-, damn it, and somehow he hadn't noticed that he wasn't alone in the old watchpoint. The intruder was standing in the middle of the command platform, carefully scrolling through the digital display of system function, attention focused on the AI unit. He made his way closer and the eyebrows behind the visor rose in mild surprise when he realized that the intruder was a woman, dressed in flannel and jeans. Hardly much of a uniform. She was arguing with the computer, fingers clicking swiftly against the keys as she drew up the schematics of the building and tapped a glowing red area with her nail.

"Report," she commanded, the lumbering AI struggling to pull out the information she required. "Ah, -damn it-. I repaired that a month ago!" The AI offered up the digital equivalent of a shrug and the woman dipped down to rummage through a toolbox by her side. "What happened to the failsafes I put in place? You -deactivated them-?" She popped up once more, waving a wrench at the computer display. "You don't have override permission!"

He smirked beneath his mask, annoyance briefly forgotten by the intruder's odd antics, and slid away, following her at a distance as she picked up her tools and trotted off down one of the dimly-lit halls. She finally came to a halt at one of the hydraulic doors, pressing her fingertips against the keypad and giving it a shove. With a hiss, the barrier parted, and his confusion only deepened at the fact that she had somehow gained access to the entire facility. They were in one of the developmental weapons labs now-or at least what remained of it, only a few of the steel vaults still locked and unemptied. She stopped in front of one, prising the metal sheeting away from the wall beside it and glaring at the exposed circuitry within with a truly incredulous look.

"Rerouting power-oh, I think not." She reached in, beginning to tinker with the electronics, occasionally swearing sharply or making little sounds of triumph. He wasn't sure how long he'd been watching her when the entire building shuddered suddenly, metal protesting and stone groaning as it ground against itself. Dust rained down from the ceiling and she jerked backward in fright just in time for another wave to rattle the outpost to its core. "W-what? Not right now, damn it!"

He was already gone, sprinting through the hallways, sliding behind a massive stone sculpture as the entryway to the facility collapsed in a spray of concrete shards and steel. Well-armed commandos followed the wave of dust, the barked commands echoing in the shattered plaza: SEARCH THE LABS, FIND THE PACKAGE, DETONATION IN THIRTY. Trying to steal his thunder, were they? He almost gave into his rage and opened fire on the Talon operatives, but a singular thought stopped him cold. The woman. They would kill her. He struggled, trying to justify his rampage, and then gave a snarl of frustration and wheeled around, setting off for the lab once more. If any of those bastards happened to get in his way, well. Acceptable casualties.

He had expected something terrible when he finally reached her, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of a massive, cloaked figure holding the little engineer by the throat, fingers digging into her skin.

"Give it to me and I will make this quick," it snarled, the inhuman voice making the hair on the back of his neck prickle with eerie familiarity.

"No-." She gave a defiant wheeze, squirming as the fingers tightened. He fired, pulse rounds blazing through the air, and the figure growled, dissolving into a dark mist as the girl slammed against the ground. He was already moving, surging across the distance and dragging her up.

"Move." His command seemed to baffle her and she stared up at him with wide, glassy eyes. So he shoved her, pushing her toward the rear door of the lab. "Don't just stand there, kid. You'll get us both killed." That seemed to flip the switch in her brain and she gasped in a breath and then bolted, screaming as a hail of shotgun pellets exploded where she'd been a moment before. The figure had reappeared, twin guns drawn, and was advancing toward them with murderous purpose. He ran, following her down the narrow hall, spinning and laying down a barrage of pulse munitions in order to keep their aggressor at bay.

"Emergency transport unit-," she panted, doggedly pushing herself ahead and slamming her hand against a flat identification panel. There was a series of explosions from the direction of the lab, and the entire building shook again, the ceilings beginning to crack and dip. "In here. Come on!" She reached out and grabbed him by his jacket, surprising him with the force with which she yanked him into the room. "Keep that asshole busy, will you? This thing hasn't been used in a long time."

"Just get it done," he growled, peeking around the doorway to scan the hall as she began flicking switches, tinkering with the portal device that sat within the room. There: the figure appeared in his visor's sights, a mocking laugh echoing as it stalked forward. He fired, but it only seemed to slow their attacker, never damage him properly. "Hurry it up, kid!"

"One more-," she sputtered, giving something a twist within the belly of the wiring. The portal flared to life just as the cloaked figure rounded the corner and he barely gave a moment's thought before lunging against her and pushing them both through the warp pathway as shells burst all around them. Then everything when white, static fuzzing across his visor, and he felt as if he was being ripped apart and then reassembled, over and over again.

He startled back to consciousness sometime later, his woozy system telling him two things: one, his visor and mask were no longer on his face, and two, his head was resting on something soft and-feminine scented. He blinked, pushing himself up into a sitting position and glancing down at the pillow, a pillow that had been made from a wadded-up flannel shirt. His visor was sitting beside it and he stared at both items for a long, long moment before things clicked together in his head. The noise of his movement must have roused his companion as well, because she gave him a little salute from her seat against the wall nearby and offered up a shaky smile.

"The hell are we?" The gravelly baritone of his voice seemed too loud for his ears and he gave a ferocious scowl before reaching up to rub at his face.

"I've been trying to that figure out." She shrugged, holding up a tiny screen nestled in her palm. "Somewhere with a lot of snow."

"Snow?"

"Yep." She jerked a finger toward one of the windows-windows he had just now noticed. Hell, there was a lot he was just now noticing. The run-down condition of the room they were in, the distinct chill in the air, and the fact that she was sitting there in her undershirt because he had been laying on her flannel. "Arctic relay station is what I'm assuming."

"Here." He shoved himself to his feet, tossing her flannel at her as he moved toward one of the windows, staring balefully down at the snow-covered world outside. "What were you doing in that damn facility? How did you have access? That's government property, kid." He turned to glare at her, surprised when she paid him absolutely no mind, shrugging her shirt back on and carefully doing up the buttons. "Hey! You answer me, damn it."

"I was hired to do routine maintenance. Under the table, of course." She tried to rise to her feet, wincing as her left leg trembled and buckled. He was across the space between them in a flash, arms wrapping around her as she stumbled.

"You're hurt." She found herself abruptly hoisted into a carry-hold, the soldier setting her down gently on a nearby table and running his eyes along her leg. "Hold still."

"Nnng. Like I was saying. Private contractor. They had assets there they wanted security maintained on-OW!" His questing fingers had found the wound in her leg and he gave it a few more tentative brushes before finally frowning at her, the scars on his face making the expression even more fierce.

"You'll have to take these off." His fingers pinched at the fabric of her pants and she stared at him blankly for a moment before opening her mouth to protest. "That's an order."

"Not my boss-," she grumbled, undoing the zipper and tugging her jeans down her hips before falling back with another grimace of pain. He took over, gently peeling them down her legs, exposing the damage-as well as the pair of red lace panties she was wearing. She blushed instinctively, yanking her flannel down her legs as far as she could.

"Hold still." His deep, growling voice had taken on a slightly rougher edge, and she watched as he fished a small medkit from his belt and set it on the table. "This might hurt." Hurt was a poor description of the sensation the nanotech left behind as it swirled around her leg from the little kit, forcing the flesh to grow unnaturally fast in its old image. She gave a sharp cry, fingers abruptly latching onto his forearm and digging in. He remained stoic, watching the medkit do its work and then sliding it back into his belt when the nanites ground to a halt.

"Might?" Her voice was slightly strangled, her skin pale and beaded with sweat.

"You'll live," was the gruff reply, and he stepped away from her as she tugged her jeans back on. "We need to find a way out of here."

"We need to not freeze to death when the sun sets," she snapped, limping slightly on the tender new flesh. "We need to find food. We need to make sure that creepy bastard doesn't show up here somehow." She grumbled a few more swears under her breath, setting off further into their new prison.

"More chicken noodle!" He watched with impressively hidden amusement as she popped out of the massive storage locker, holding up a few more packs of freeze-dried rations and setting them on the table triumphantly. They had been at it for a few hours at least, managing to scrounge up enough food to survive on and she had worked her magic on the old computer system, convincing it somehow to restore minimal power to the heat and lights in the building. He found himself growing slightly fond of her company. Laney, as she called herself, brought a distinctly new cheerfulness to the situation. She was always smiling at him and laughing when he ordered her around, and her eyes rarely slid to the scars on his cheeks or the wrinkles on his skin. She'd also taken to calling him 'Six', which he found suitable enough. "You can cook this, right? I'm gonna see if I can coax this old thing into keeping one of those bunks heated for the night." She abruptly patted him on the arm and then hobbled off down the hallway as if nothing in the world was wrong.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Wait-one?" It was too late, she was already out of earshot.

Later, as they sat together in the empty dining hall and ate their flavorless soup, she chittered at him endlessly about her programming and engineering adventures and how she'd come to look after the old Overwatch facility. Then her hand rose to her throat, fingering the dark bruises their attacker had left there, and she shivered.

"I hate him," she huffed, raising her bowl to her lips and tilting the last of the soup down her throat.

"Who was he?" A thread of his concern must have penetrated his voice, because she gave him an odd glance.

"A monster." She paused, setting the bowl down and giving him a measuring stare. "I hear he's been killing lots of former agents. I didn't expect to see him up close. I guess they really wanted what was in that lab."

"What was in there?" His blue eyes locked onto hers and bore down. "What were they after?"

"I-can't tell you," she mumbled, breaking eye contact and glancing away. "Sorry, Six."

"Can't or won't?" He gritted the question out, fingers clenching.

"Both? It's safe, though. I've got it with me." She patted her chest gently.

"Here? You stole it?" He gave her an incredulous look and she burst out laughing, shaking her head.

"I sure did."

He had to admit that he was impressed with her work. She had managed to coax enough power out of the old generators to allow them both a semi-warm, very fast shower, and then he climbed into the bunk after her. It was a small, cramped room with a shelf where a cot had once been and where currently some old, slightly musty blankets were piled.

"We've only got enough energy to heat this one for now," she explained, making a rueful face as she tried to shake out the blankets into a usable arrangement. "I'll-take the floor if you promise not to step on me when you get up."

"I've got it." He reached out, snatching the blanket from her. "You bunk down up top." He consciously avoided looking at her as she pressed her hand against the door, the room sealing with a hiss and a draft of lukewarm air. Then she crawled onto the shelf-bed and wrapped one of the blankets around herself.

"Goodnight, Six."

He simply grunted in response, flopping down and shutting his eyes, willing himself to sleep. At some point during the night, he was roused by the abrupt press of a body against his. After a brief spasm of violent instinct, he realized that Laney had slid down to the floor as well and was wrapped around him, shivering. She didn't seem to be more than half-conscious and he frowned, considering the situation for a long while before finally turning over and wrapping himself around her instead, rewarded when she snuggled back against him and drifted back to sleep.

When he woke the next morning, she had already left the little cabin, and by the time he'd dressed and made his way back to the dining hall, there was nothing but a newly-emptied bowl of that damn chicken soup to mark the fact that she'd been there already. He eventually found her upstairs, at the very top of the tower that they were occupying, futzing with a complicated control panel and frowning at it ferociously.

"Bad news?" His rough voice startled her and she whirled around, staring at him for a moment before waving a hand at the steel-and-glass ceiling.

"The solar array is calibrated wrong," she grumped, pointing a finger upward. "If we can re-align it, we can get the full power charging in this place. Have access to the whole place and the communication system up by tomorrow, hopefully."

"Where'd you learn this shit anyway, kid?" He leaned back against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

"I'm in my thirties," she huffed at him, "And it's part experience, part-improvisation, really. I'm good with systems."

"Yeah. Sure. What do I need to do?" He shifted on his feet, anxious to get working on fixing this situation they were stuck in.

The morning passed quickly: he climbed out onto the top of the tower and spent the next several hours pushing panels around until they had lined the array up properly, with Laney shouting orders up to him from the control room. It was pleasant enough work, and the sound of the power core humming to life was certainly a welcome one. Then she insisted that they go outside, into the snow, and see if any of the garages at the tower base had a vehicle. The bay doors to the containment units took a painfully long time to open and she seemed more interested in the recent snowfall than in the repairable snow-glider they found consigned to the back of one of the garages. As he stepped out, waiting for the doors to shut, his companion abruptly piped up with a: "Six!" He turned, blinded somewhat by the sun on the snow, and then a snowball struck him abruptly in the shoulder, spattering across his jacket. He grunted, brushing the ice from his clothes and focusing on the woman who was laughing at his expense a few feet away.

"That wasn't smart," he growled, smugly taking in the surprised look on her face and then he flung a snowball of his own at her, smacking her quite accurately in the head. She squeaked and toppled over backward into the snow, but when he hurried over to check, he received a faceful of snow for his troubles. Thus began the great snowball fight, and by the time it ended, both of them were red in the face and quite thoroughly chilled, though neither would concede defeat. It was only after they stumbled inside that the cold of their sodden clothes kicked in, and she gave him a smile through her shivers.

"Water should be actually warm this time!" She hurried off toward the living quarters and he followed at a somewhat more leisurely pace, though nothing could have prepared him for walking into the room and coming face to face with a woman mostly done yanking her clothes off. She gasped and tried to cover herself, the sudden expression of hunger and appreciation on his face making her flush crimson. "E-excuse me!" She darted around him, making for the showers, her hands clapped against her breasts. He simply stood there, stunned, emotions warring on his face. She managed to avoid him until he returned from his own shower, clothes bundled in his arms, form barely concealed by the fabric.

"Need to dry these," he stated blandly and began to arrange his gear atop the bench-bed, not bothering to hide his own nudity. It was her turn to stare, the woman blushing almost as red as her hair, eyes flickering along the dozens of scars on his skin-and then lower. "You need something, kid?"

"I-ah. Ah?" Her lips parted in a silent question and she tipped green eyes up toward his, shrinking back as he met her gaze and his eyes practically bored through her as he stepped forward. "S-six?"

"I haven't laughed in years." He knelt down beside her abruptly, scooping one of the blankets from the floor and wrapping it around her shoulders and then swathing himself in another. "I haven't done a lot of things in years."

"I'm sorry." She reached out, gently setting her palm against his scar-crossed cheek. He grunted, flinching away from her touch. "What-what happened?"

"Old friend happened." His calloused thumb and forefinger circled around her wrist and he tugged her slowly toward him. "I'm done thinking about the past."

"Oh?" Her lips were a scant few inches from his now, her pulse jumping in her throat.

"Come here." He practically snarled the words and then his lips were on hers and he was kissing her with desperate, brutal intensity. He wasn't gentle, couldn't be gentle, not even he had that much patience, and so he dragged her into his lap, one hand settling on the small of her back as the other threaded into her hair. There was barely enough time to breathe, the way he was plundering her mouth, his tongue warring with hers, and she surrendered to his control over her. A jagged groan escaped him as he slid the blanket from her shoulders and pressed her back onto it, lips sliding down her neck and then latching onto one nipple, his teeth and tongue teasing breathy little sobs from her. Her fingers wound into his white hair and clenched, her hips bucking against his solid body needily. Then suddenly the blunt tip of his cock was resting against her sex and he was staring down into her face, fingers braced on either side of her head. "If you don't want this, say it. Otherwise."

"S-six, please," she whimpered, fingers dragging along his back as she tried to pull him against her.

"Jack. -Jack-," he snarled, and then he drove himself into her in one brutal motion, gathering her into his arms as she cried out and pressing his lips against her head. "I needed-. I." He trailed off and she gave a shaky smile, stroking his hair with her hand, whispering softly to him until his shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly and he turned his head to catch her lips with his once more.

He pulled her into his lap after a few moments, leaning back against the wall as he kissed her, still hilted deep inside. He seemed to be luxuriating in being so close to someone; so intimately connected, and he stayed still within her for so long that she gave a gasp of surprise when he finally shifted his hips. They fucked in a slow, surprisingly sweet way, and he kept her held tightly against him as he pulled little moans and cries from her, unwilling to part with the touch of skin on skin. One of his hands finally slid between them and the calloused pad of his thumb pressed down on that sensitive bud between her legs until she was shaking and gasping for mercy; mercy that he granted by giving her the climax that she sought, his own seed filling her in a mutual explosion of pleasure.

In the aftermath, he kept her curled up in his embrace, eyes shut as he breathed in her scent, fingers combing patterns through her hair. She seemed content with his slow affection, resting her cheek against his shoulder as she dozed in his arms. It was hard to say how long they spent like that, before he murmured his desire to fuck her properly in that gruff voice and laid her back against the blankets, teasing orgasm after orgasm from her until she was a shaking, whimpering mess beneath him.

"I've got you," he swore roughly, setting his lips on her neck as he finally came with a groan inside of her. "I've got you."


End file.
